Coming Home
by TheSapphireSky
Summary: When he is called off to war, Sherlock realises just what, and who, he left behind. Sherlolly


Around him, the air was thick with steam and sadness. Men and women crowded the platform, each trying to hang on to the last few seconds they had together.

'You take care of yourself, you hear?' Mrs Hudson kissed his cheek and smiled up at him fondly. 'And be sure to eat at least once a day. I know how you can get when you're focused.'

Sherlock smiled briefly and tried to hide his discomfort when she pulled him into a tight hug for the seventh time since they arrived.

With a sniffle, she stepped back and pulled out a handkerchief and wiped her eyes.

Sherlock then turned to the small woman standing back, not wanting to intrude. Her features were pale and she has put on a brave face for him. But he saw right through her.

'I guess this is goodbye for now,' she forced a cheery tone and a wobbly smile, but couldn't bring herself to look any higher than his collar.

Sherlock cleared his throat and stepped closer. 'For now. I trust you will watch over London in my absence.'

'I will do my best, Mr Holmes,' she promised with a watery smile.

Sherlock resisted the sudden urge to wipe away the tear that has escaped down her cheek. But the way she was looking at him… it nearly crumbled his resolve. Her wide brown eyes were drinking him in as if she would never see him again.

And it was possible she might not.

Behind him, the train's whistle pierced the air, calling all remaining servicemen to board.

Sherlock stooped and gathered his duffel bag. He straightened his cap and nodded at the women. 'Goodbye, Mrs Hudson. Miss Hooper.'

Mrs Hudson waved the handkerchief at him, too overcome to speak.

Molly, however, pulled him back by his uniform's lapels and leaned up on her toes to press a kiss to his cheek. Sherlock froze in surprise as his heart skipped a beat.

'Come back to us.'

'I'll do my best, Miss Hooper,' he whispered.

It was only when he had boarded and the train had pulled away from the station that Sherlock reached up and touched his cheek. The skin still tingled from where her lips had touched him.

oOo

Eleven Months Later

'Are you sure it was today?' Molly queried, leaning out over the platform's edge hoping to catch a glimpse of the train coming round the bend.

Mrs Hudson looked up from the letter she'd read for the hundredth time. 'Yes. So unless the fool missed it, he and the train should be arriving any minute. Don't fret, dear. Your young man will be here soon.'

Molly flushed. 'He's not my young man, Mrs Hudson.'

'Trust a wise old woman, love,' Mrs Hudson said as she folded the letter and put it in her bag. She smiled at the younger woman. 'He doesn't keep anyone around that he doesn't care for. And then to write to you every week for nearly a year, no matter how brief some letters were? Well, that is as clear declaration as any.'

Molly waved off her words and tried to ignore the little flame of hope that had never quite been extinguished but had managed to remain alive with every letter Sherlock had written her.

No, she would be happy to have him back just as her friend, the man who saw her, not as an inferior gender, but as a scientific-minded equal. As long as he came back to them safe and alive, she would be happy to continue on as they had before he left for the war. And bury her feelings as she did before.

From the distance, the rumble of a train sounded followed by a high-pitched whistle.

'They're here!' Molly exclaimed, her excited cry drowned out by the others around her. Mothers and wives and children clamored to watch as the train came around the far bend and finally, achingly slowly, came to a stop at the platform.

Men leaned out of the windows, waving their hats and unable to wipe their smiles from their faces. Tears of joy and happiness were aplenty as the doors were opened and the men rushed out, weaving amongst the crowd to find their loved ones.

Molly tried to see over the crowd, searching for a tall, dark-haired soldier. It seemed that the train was nearly emptied and her heart was aching at no sign of him.

But then a man appeared in the doorway. His curls a little longer under his cap than she'd remembered and his face was thinner as he leaned his head back and breathed in deep.

'Sherlock,' she breathed his name in relief. A smile creased her face even as tears filled her eyes. He was home!

Then his eyes opened and he looked directly at her. A smile broke across his face. And then he was gone! Molly frowned and lifted herself up on her toes, trying to find where he'd gone.

'Molly.'

She gasped and spun around to find him right behind her. The people and sounds around her faded away as they stared at each other. Up close, she could make out the flecks of green and blue in his eyes. The lines around his eyes and mouth were more pronounced than she remembered and her heart broke as she wondered what horrors he had seen that had caused them.

He dropped his duffel bag and caught her hand, tracing her cheek with his other hand. She watched him with wide eyes as he seemed to drink her in, his eyes roaming over her face, as she had done to him nearly a year before on this very platform.

'Sherlock,' she breathed. His eyes darted up to hers and she caught her breath at the intensity of his gaze.

Slowly, he lowered his head, pausing just as his lips brushed hers, giving her time to pull away. And when she didn't, he closed the distance.

Molly's eyes fluttered shut and she gave in to the kiss without a moment's hesitation. She wrapped her arms around him as he deepened the kiss into something normally not suitable for polite company. But no one paid them any mind, too caught up in their own reunions to give a care for the amorous young couple.

Flushed and dazed, they finally parted for air.

'I wanted to write it a thousand times, ever since that first day on the train,' Sherlock began, his voice thick with emotion. 'But I could never bring myself to. Not when I didn't know if I could make it home to you. But now…'

'Yes?' Molly prompted hopefully when he paused.

He smiled down at her. 'I love you, Molly Hooper.'

She beamed. 'I love you, too. I love you so much-!'

Her last words were muffled when he pulled her close and kissed her once more.

oOo

Mrs Hudson watched the young couple with a fond smile.

 _Finally_. She breathed a sigh of relief. The war was over and her boy was home, safe in the arms of the woman he loved.


End file.
